Page 52 of Forever Defiant
“That was a coincidence.”
Bullshit. “You took the long way to the film room.”
“I wanted fresh air.”
“We wereinside,” I said through gritted teeth. “There was no fresh air.”
He glared at me. “Okay, fine. Maybe I didn’t want to talk.”
“Why not?”
“Because I think I said enough yesterday.”
“What?” I stepped closer. “You mean, yesterday gotuncomfortableforyou.You said something cryptic, and then you ran away.”
“I didn’t run.”
“Fine, youwalkedaway. But you just ran away from me right now.” I took a deep, calming breath. “And you need to stop pretending we weren’t having a conversation before.”
His jaw flexed. His eyes flicked to the players watching us, then back to me. “Fuck’s sake, Peterson, I told you to stop doing this,” he said quietly.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
His mouth curved in something that wasn’t a smile. “Out here? I actually do.”
I stiffened.
“You’re making the team nervous,” he said bluntly. “You’re making the coaching staff nervous. And the more nervous they get, the more dangerous this place becomes for you and anyone else associated with you. Or did you forget what the head coach said to Whittaker?”
Dangerous.He used that word again.
He leaned in just enough that his voice dropped beneath the noise of practice. “You chasing me across the field like a fucking crazy person, or worse, a stalker... it brings attention. Attention is a problem.” He looked over my shoulder, and I had the mortifying realization that I had just done that. In front of everyone.
I shoved aside my embarrassment. “A problem? For who?”
“For you, and for me.”
I scoffed. “So your solution is to ignore me until I back off?”
His gaze dropped to my notebook. Then back to my face. “My solution is you stop asking questions that aren’t yours to ask.”
My stomach tightened. “How much do you know?”
“I know enough to stay out of it.”
“Then tell me.”
“No.”
The word was flat, his tone final.
I searched his face. “Why?”
“Because I said no, Peterson,” he said. “Now walk away.”
I opened my mouth, but he was already stepping back.
“Drop it, Hadley,” he said. Not quietly. Not kindly. “This isn’t a conversation you win.”
